


Erroristic Qualities

by Baileys



Series: What Family's For [5]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e24 Amplification, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baileys/pseuds/Baileys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid's close call with anthrax, from close call to happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erroristic Qualities

Amplification S4  
…  
Hotch and Morgan get to street level, breathing in the fresh air greedily, grateful for even that small concession right now. There's noises all around, consuming them, threatening to swallow them whole if either let it. The world freezes and Hotch becomes a mere observer of the surrounding chaos. The cars, the lights, the people all fade into the background, sirens and shouts recede to a dull roar. A hand grips his arm and Hotch slams back into reality with all the force of being at the center of a ten car pileup. The vertigo inducing sensation almost makes him vomit.

"We've got this don't worry," the General breaks through his subconscious in the same manner one might snap a twig by stepping on it. "Seriously, you've got your man to check on." 

The General misinterprets his bewildered silence for argument, but Hotch doesn't care to correct him. All too aware the raw emotion he's been suppressing for the last too many hours is pushing itself to the surface. His stoic FBI Agent mask weakening and developing cracks. Quickly thanking the General, with a nod Hotch grabs Morgan and together they head out. 

...

The elevator journey up to the quarantined floor seems endless. Much like the car ride before it. Something about hospitals that gets under his skin, despite the knowledge that this is the best place for him to be, he can't help but think it signals the worse as well.

A hollow ding signals the metal doors opening. Feeling the sudden chill as he steps off into the busy waiting area he's never noticed how cold it can be in these places either. 'You'd think they'd at least try and make you feel comfortable.'

"You say something?"

Rossi shakes his head at his companion on this sad, sad journey, focusing on his forward momentum and navigating them around the sterile corridors in search of answers. Rounding the second corner one of the people they’re looking for is directly in their sights and Rossi wastes no time.

“How is he?” 

Anxious pacing forced to an abrupt halt Morgan stands tall before them, looking him directly in the eye Rossi waits for him to announce Reid's fate...

“We don’t know."

At his side Prentiss goes ridged, like a devil cat ready to pounce on her pray. He's readying to demand how, in god's name and all that is holy can Derek Morgan of all people NOT KNOW! But a hand on his arm suppress' the impulse, Emily knowing as well as him that Morgan would have already exhausted all avenues of information on the health of one Dr. Spencer Reid. If he didn’t know, there was nothing to know. Yet.

Rossi inwardly calmed and shared his own commiserations with a light pat to Morgan’s shoulder. Just as he's guiding them all to take a seat in the adjacent waiting area two more familiar faces round the corner.

“Well we just can’t keep away from each other.” He joked, desperate to lighten the frown on Hotch's face and prevent the building tears in Garcia’s eyes from falling.

“What about JJ?” Emily asked, breaking the tension somewhat, as was likely her plan.

“She’s dealing with the press.” Hotch spoke flatly, moving forward between the impromptu gathered group in the middle of the hospitals corridor to find a doctor.

“I promised her we’d call with an update…” Garcia said looking hopefully at Derek, knowing he’d been here since the scrum bag was taken into custody.

“Sorry baby girl.” Morgan shook his head as they all took a seat.

At least with Garcia here he was looking slightly stronger. A saving grace since a Derek Morgan who didn’t have a hope or some kind of motivational speech ready was a Derek Morgan Rossi didn't want to know. 

“Derek,” 

The name was softly spoken, but none of the gathered group missed it. They all looked up, raising their heads like nosy meerkats in the desert. Rossi reached over and offered Garcia his hand when it looked like fear was keeping her firmly in her seat.

“News?” Morgan demanded of the petit doctor before them.

“Dr. Reid was right." The visibly tired woman offered them a small reassuring smile. 

“He usually is.” Rossi spoke with a smile of his own when it looked like everyone else was too emotionally stunned for words.  
"Analysis of the inhaler confirmed an antidote.” She continued formally, cluing in even the non-profiler amongst them that they weren't out of the woods yet. “We’ve given it to all four remaining survivors from the park as well as Dr. Reid and everyone is responding, the anthrax is no longer attacking their bodies.” 

"But?" Prentiss butted in, the first to verbalize what the rest of them were thinking.

Doctor Kuma's face fell, growing somber. “I don’t want to alarm you, but what we don’t yet know is if the damage already done is too great to recover from.”

Garcia's hand clenches onto his tighter. “But Reid was only infected today, he can’t be... he should have the best chance.”   
The build-up of unshed tears was evident in her voice.

“Unfortunately Dr. Reid’s symptom’s where acute.” Dr. Kuma flicks her gaze to Morgan. “Due to the increased amount of the powder in a contained space." She smiled softly, apologizing for the news not being better. "Aphasia had already set in on the way to the hospital, where as it took a day or longer in all of the others whom were affected in the park.”

“So that means?” Morgan prompted.

Rossi winced, feeling sorry for the doctor, but understanding the need to hear the actual words.

“It means... his odds aren't good."

"And - and by odds you mean?" Garcia begged, refusing to believe what the rest of them were clearly too jaded to deny.

"All I can do is keep him comfortable, treat the symptoms as they present and... hope." Kuma swallows, her short time with their youngest being all she needed to become attached to him obviously. "I’m sorry I can’t give you better news. Really.”

Respecting they needed time to digest the prognosis she left, but no before telling them a nurse will be by shortly to show them to Reid's room.

Taking a deep breath and a good look around at his teammates Rossi doesn’t know where to start. Garcia had finally let the tears fall, uncaring. Morgan had dropped into his seat head in hands, looking more vulnerable and open than Rossi has ever seen him. Next to him Emily was standing leaning over a chair, to the untrained eye appearing well put together, but the fixed gaze, lips pulled into a tight thin line left no doubt she was falling apart on the inside. 

“I’ll call JJ.” She announces calmly walking away before she breaks.

Hotch also leaves their little group, silently walking away, arms folded high and tight to his chest, one hand covering his eyes, then his mouth as he digests the sudden shift in circumstance. Leaving Morgan and Garcia to comfort each other and Emily to her privacy Rossi approaches Hotch. 

"I should call his father. I wouldn’t even know how to explain this is his Mom."

Standing at his side, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets Rossi keeps his gaze forward.

"Maybe hold off on that." Off Hotch's look he adds. "I somehow doubt you're going to get the reaction you want."  
Hotch nods in acceptance that Rossi knows exactly what he's thinking.

“He’s going to be alright."

"You don't know that." Hotch sighs.

"Yes we do," Rossi counters, "he's going to be alright and you know why? Because I’m not missing an opportunity to kill the twerp myself for putting me through this crap again. I'm serious! In case you hadn't noticed I'm old. My physician says I need less stress in my life. The kid gives me reason for a heart attack every day of the week!"

His tirade peeled to an end upon hearing the muffled snort to his left. Hotch's smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Rossi is glad to see something other than abject desolation on his friend’s face. He needs to try for himself as well, otherwise he’ll end up blubbering alongside Garcia.

"In any case how often do we get to call that boy an idiot?"

“Not often,” Hotch swipes a hand over his face, voice thready “I’m okay.” He assures before Rossi can ask.

Dave’s looking at him sideways on and can see he’s lying. “Sure you are. About as okay as I am with the kid being in the hospital. Idiot or not.”

Hotch nods, clearly not daring to speak and Rossi really doesn’t know what to do or say next. He’s never seen Aaron quite this out of sorts before.

“I want to call Jack.” He says out of the blue. “but right now I don't think I'll be able to speak to Haley without her knowing something's wrong.”

“JJ wanted to call home before didn’t she?” Rossi guesses, Hotch slides him a sideways look but waves him off, telling him not to answer. 

“When Garcia told us Reid had altered in the ambulance I…” he cuts himself off.

“It's okay. They understand.” They - not we, because Rossi was old enough and experienced enough, and damn-it stoic enough that he doesn’t need to be told why stopping the madman trying to infect the city was their number one priority, over worrying about their friend. Knowing he knows and accepts that just plain sucks sometimes. 

“Is it?” Hotch turns pinning him with his glare. “I had to order Morgan and Garcia to forget about Reid until we caught this son of a bitch. What if something had happened? I would never have forgiven myself.”

“You didn’t order them to forget. You ordered them to focus on what they could do to help. Worry isn’t helpful.”  
Hotch snorted and kicked at the floor. “How very pragmatic of me.”

“Aaron you need to cut yourself some slack,” Rossi chilled, “you did what you needed to do at the time. You wanted to be there for Reid. You’re doing that now. Believe me out of all of us I think Reid would be the most okay with that.”

“He’d be okay because despite being a part of this team for six years he’s not yet got it into his head that he doesn’t have to do everything alone.”

“True. But I actually meant he’d see it as the logical choice and accept it.”

“Even if it were one of us and not him?”

Rossi opened his mouth to say absolutely then swiftly shut it again. Reid was infuriatingly complex sometimes and this is one of those times where he’s 99 percent sure he knows the answer, but the possibility is Reid would throw a spanner in the works and go the opposite way. He could be unpredictable like that sometimes. Always switching from one side to the other like he can’t stop his mind from coming up with reasons for everything. That’s probably why he likes math and is so good at the logic stuff. It makes sense to him. Emotions don’t.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

Hotch smirks like he's achieved something special. Rossi's about to tell him where he can put that smirk when a nurse approaches.

“Reid family?”

They share a look and Rossi watches Hotch settle the emotions of just minutes ago, burying them deep below the mask of professionalism before nodding following. Morgan charges forward to join Hotch, while he waits for the girls to catch up, more than happy to be the last in the room. Despite his words Dave isn’t eager to be the first in and take the full surprise of just how bad off their kid is.

"Oh," Garcia's voice travels back to him.

Stepping through the door takes longer and is harder than Rossi thought possible, but he joins the rest surrounding Reid. The kid's lying flat out on the bed, oxygen mask in place, looking as pale as his sheets, eyes twitching under dark bruised, closed lids.

No one moves, too afraid to breath for fear that'll upset the delicate balance all five of them were trying to maintain. Someone coughs and Hotch talks first.

“Reid, can you hear me?”

The kid immediately opens his eyes. Surprise clear, his young face settles into relief at seeing them, but the brief flash dissolves too soon, replaced by open vulnerability. One uncoordinated hand removes the oxygen and dry lips try to speak, but the aphasia is still affecting him and nonsense is all they can hear, making those sad round glassy eyes only sadder, rounder and glassier. 

Luckily Hotch knows exactly what to do to stop it and taking Reid’s hand in his replaces the mask, quietly shushing him.  
“It’s okay, don’t try and speak, you’re going to be fine Reid, you hear me?”

Rossi can see from his stare that no, he couldn’t hear. He wasn’t understanding much beyond the pain, the confusion and the fact they were there. Hotch's resolve was waning under the pressure, his stern take charge exterior breaking down faster than a freight train and unlike in the corridor there was nowhere to go, no reason or excuse good enough to run from the room and never look back. 

Looking around the little room Garcia was still crying silently by Morgan’s side, both where standing slightly behind Hotch. Emily was pushed back against the wall, trying to look anywhere but at the bed. Reid was staring at them, looking even more child-like than usual. And him, he was standing by just watching it happen. The world was spinning out of control.   
Passivity could only go so far. It was time to step up, make a move, do something to stop this family, these people he’d claimed as his own over the past two years, who’d claimed him, from falling apart and breaking away into pieces too small to put back together.

“He's going to be okay,” Rossi declares stepping closer to the bed, slotting himself between the bed and the window on the opposite side to Hotch, joining them all in looking down on the kid.

“Rossi -”

“Morgan” Dave warned, cutting him off, telling him with a pointed glare to can his pessimism for once. Catching Hotch shaking his head in despair Rossi upped his game. “The kid doesn’t need to see you all crying over him.”

Dave moved closer to the bed, beckoning Emily forward to join the rest of them. Taking Reid’s other hand in his, since Hotch hadn’t let go yet, he clicked his fingers in front of the kid's wide confused eyes and demanded attention. Like a cat following a piece of string Reid followed and stared at him with a mixture of sadness and hope.

“Spencer, listen to me," Rossi ran his free hand through the sweat soaked fringe, brushing it off his face. "When you’re well and on your feet again we are having a serious talk about you wandering off into anthrax exposed laboratories.”

There was a beat of silence, where everyone in the room collectively held their breath, then Reid giggled. Shoulders shaking, a small smile formed underneath the mask.

Morgan shook his head. “We sure that’s not morphine in that drip?”

“Absolutely,” Hotch nodded with a watery smile. 

...  
It's late. Well early, depending on how you view it. The shadows on the wall are creeping closer but Hotch can't bring himself to leave again. Morgan had settled in the second they entered the new room, the one not in ICU, making his intentions clear the only way he was leaving the hospital now was with Reid.

Hotch had left with the others a couple of hours ago after finally getting the good news. Against all odds, Reid had picked up considerably since their arrival earlier that afternoon. So much so that Dr. Kuma had been confident enough with his progress to tell them, though a relapse was always possible, Reid should make a full recovery. There wasn't a lot in his life that could top hearing those words.

So leaving Reid with Morgan watching over him he'd given Garcia a ride home, closed up the case back at the office with the others, and finally spoken to Jack. Now he was back at the hospital, having very little to go home too and oddly enough not wanting to be alone. 

"Hotch?" Reid murmured, eyes closed.

"I'm here Reid." Aaron calmly leaned forward and patted the still sleeping kid's cold hand lying lax across his chest.  
Reid had already woken several times since he'd arrived, each time he'd been a little more coherent, able to not only recognize him and Morgan, but also say their names. 

"Ho'ch. Hotch!" 

Recognising the panicked cries as a precursor to a nightmare Hotch didn't bother trying to talk and made soothing sounds instead, hoping to calm Reid down enough to lull him into a deeper, more restful sleep. Something similar he'd done with Jack when he'd had colic. He was drawing the line at singing though. 

It’s funny, he's been a father for over three years now and frankly still feels wholly inadequate for the responsibility of a child. Though some would say being the unit chief of the BAU should have prepared him well, but the reality of having someone totally dependent on him was something else. The same people would likely also say he must have been crazy to let a kid join the FBI's elite team of profiles, but then he’d tell them he agreed. Reid joining hadn't been his choice, and chances are if it had been he'd never have allowed it. For this very reason - seeing him hurt just hurt everyone else too damn much. 

Eventually Reid settled again, breathing evening out and Hotch sat back, contemplating his worth as Reid's self-appointed guardian in Morgan's absence, having ordered Derek to get a coffee and something to eat before continuing with his vigil.   
Orders. That's what he did earlier. He ordered his team to focus, to leave Reid with those that could help him. Looking at him now, seeming so small and vulnerable in the large hospital bed Hotch hadn't a clue how he'd done it.

Without warning Reid rolled over to face him, hands nestling under his chin. Hotch reached out and stroked his hair. "We didn't mean to leave you alone."

Reid's eyes snapped open and Hotch snatched his hand back in surprise. By the sleepy half lidded expression, he doubted Reid had a clue it had been him stroking his hair just now, but then again, this was Reid he was talking about. 

They stared at each other a few more seconds before the kid blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I was having a nightmare." He said uncensored.

Hotch waited for more, but apparently that was all he had to say to explain his sudden return to consciousness.  
"Reid do you remember what happened?" 

The kid took a second, eyes traveling the room before nodding.

"Are you going to yell at me too?" Reid asked around a yawn, speech clear yet still slurred, whether from sleep or the aphasia he couldn't determine.

"Yell at you?" Hotch asked openly.

Eyes blinking again, forcing consciousness forward Reid reaches out. 

"Rossi yelled at me." 

"He was really worried about you, we all were." Hotch takes his hand, surprised by the strong grip.

"I understand." Reid forces the words out, his tongue sluggish still, making it seem like hard work.

"Understand what Reid?"

"You weren't" he swallows, eyes closing again. "Here." 

He's sure Reid meant it as comforting, but all his forgiveness did was break Hotch's heart.

"I'm sorry." Reid said clocking his look even in his clearly exhausted state.

It actual came out 'sowy' and Hotch couldn't help it, he laughed, which made Reid frown, so Hotch sort to quickly rectify that.

Resting a hand on one protruding shoulder he said, "No I'm sorry."

That was it for consciousness though it seemed, smiling his acceptance Reid's eye lids fell closed and stayed that way. Just as Hotch was brushing away the hair that had once again fallen in his eyes, thanks to all the moving about, the door behind them opened.

"Caught ya,"

"I was just..."

"Aaron come on," Rossi steps up to the bed giving Hotch a look.

Huffing a sigh, he doesn't bother to stop, finishing what he started. "I thought this time we'd really lost him."

"You do know it's not a character flaw to lose it now and again." Dave tells him in all honestly, tone naturally patronizing.

"I can't lead this team effectively if I can't separate home from work."

"Unless I'm mistaken that's exactly what you managed today,"

"And I hate myself for it." Hotch pinned Rossi with a look.

Reid's childishness ignited a protective streak in them all, but honestly not one Hotch had truly been conscious of himself until his kidnapping by Tobias Hankle two years ago. Now every time Reid is injured on the job it's all he thinks about. This time being no exception.

"Aaron this is the job, the minute you stop caring about the lies we tell and the secrets we protect that's when you can truly hate yourself." Rossi is stern. "We nearly lost our kid today, we are allowed to hate and vent and cry a little."

"You know I second that." Morgan strolled in, looking fresher than he had a right to be. 

Hotch saw Dave exchange a look with Morgan over his head. "What's going on?"

"I'm here to take you home, it's been a long day Aaron you need a break."

"No Morgan's been here all day, I'll stay."

"Man I'm fine, you know I'm not that much older than the kid here,"

"Since when has 'over a decade' been not much?" Rossi laughed. 

"Hey shut up man, I'm on your side." Morgan griped, hooking a chair with his leg and pulling it closer to the bed. "Hotch, you look like crap go home and get some sleep, you know Reid's going to need you tomorrow to help him break out of here."

Conceding the truth of his words, Reid really would need him tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. "What about you?"

Morgan lifted his feet, resting them on the corner of Reid's bed. "Me, I can go all night."

The stares from both himself and Rossi must have said it all because Morgan laughed before leaning back, closing his eyes.

Hotch stood and with Rossi leading the way walked partway towards the door before quickly turning back. "He's been having nightmares so don't leave him alone." 

"Man if you think I'm going anywhere without him." Derek answers without opening his eyes. 

Hotch nods, grateful for the understanding and grasps Derek’s shoulder, "Call me if anything changes."

Morgan promises he will with a nod, relaxing as much as anyone can in a hospital chair he waves the pair goodbye. Hotch takes one last look at the kid in the bed, tucking the sheets securely around him, and with one final pat to the blanket cover hip precedes Rossi out of the room.

Finally, he thinks he can sleep.


End file.
